


Beyond A Reasonable Doubt

by cryptaknight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-10
Updated: 2012-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:19:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptaknight/pseuds/cryptaknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Susan needs Zach’s help on a case- and gets a lot more than she bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond A Reasonable Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a gift fic written for the 2010 Smutty Claus exchange
> 
> Merry Christmas, ! I very much enjoyed writing this pairing, and I hope I did them justice for you. I used your prompt “Old friends falling into bed and having to sort out the consequences to their friendship,” which sparked all sorts of ideas and was so very much fun to write; I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I liked writing it. My thanks go out to K for her patient and thoughtful beta. The standard disclaimer applies: Harry Potter and its associated characters do not belong to me; they belong to J K Rowling, Scholastic, and Bloomsbury, etc.

  
**Beyond A Reasonable Doubt**   


_Tutshill Star Accused of Tampering!_

 _The Tutshill Tornadoes are no strangers to rumours and accusations of less than savoury tactics, but never before have those accusations been made official. That’s changed, with star Seeker Cyril Plumpton suddenly subject to a formal investigation after rival team Caerphilly Catapults Captain Elwyn Cadwalladr publicly pointed the finger at the undefeated team’s Seeker. Plumpton, grandson of Tutshill’s most famous player, Roderick Plumpton, stands accused of broom tampering and illegal enhancement charms. A spokesperson for the Tornadoes declined to comment, but things look serious indeed, as Plumpton is pulled from the active roster, and a forced forfeit to Caerphilly mars the Tornadoes undefeated season..._

Quidditch. Why did it have to be Quidditch?

Susan Bones heaved a long-suffering sigh, and rubbed at her temples with her index fingers. While she was fairly well educated, there were still areas where Susan would hardly claim to be a font of knowledge, and Quidditch would likely top that list. Certainly she’d gone to matches with her housemates, and cheered as loudly as any of them for the Hufflepuff team, but she didn’t know a- she rifled the papers, looking again for the name of the move- a Plumpton Pass from her left elbow. It was all whizzing brooms and lovely uniforms to her.

So it figured the first case she’d been given to work alone centered around Quidditch. As a very junior defence barrister for the Wizengamot, Susan was well aware that she was fortunate to even be given a case of her own; she suspected it was a result of family ties, and while she was no Slytherin, she’d not turn her nose up at the advantage. After several years clawing her way up from research assistant to her current position, she did feel she was ready, after all.

Only why did it have to be Quidditch?

She reminded herself that she did _like_ the sport, even if she didn’t understand all the rules and regulations that accompanied it. She reminded herself that she _had_ put in her fair share of time in research, and she could call upon those skills in this case. But it wouldn’t give her the sort of in depth knowledge that would allow her to feel confident defending this Plumpton character. She needed someone else’s brain to pick. Someone who played Quidditch. Someone whose father had been a broom developer.

As luck would have it, she had once been quite close to such a person. In a fit of inspiration- or perhaps it was desperation- Susan packed herself off to the Ministry owlery, quill determinedly in hand.

 _Falmouth Making A Run For First Place_

 _With the Tutshill Tornadoes’ recent forfeit causing a shake-up in the British and Irish Quidditch League standings, one could argue first place is within any team’s reach. The Falmouth Falcons seem determined to ensure that’s not the case for long. Led in part by stand out Chaser Zacharias Smith, the Falcons now stand to take over the top spot..._

Zach had been rather pleasantly surprised to receive Susan’s owl. He didn’t see much of his old Hufflepuff crowd these days, outside of birthday celebrations and, in one case, a wedding. However, as far as he knew, today was neither, and Susan’s invitation to meet her at the Leaky Cauldron seemed spontaneous, if a little vague. He’d been pleased enough to agree, and he found himself standing in the doorway to the magical pub only a few minutes after the appointed time, which he thought was quite impressive for him.

At the bar, he spotted a familiar rope of auburn hair easily enough- the only time he’d ever seen Susan style her hair differently was for the fourth year Yule Ball. He sidled up behind his old housemate, giving her braid an affectionate tug before taking a seat next to her.

“Alright there, Susan?” he asked, grinning broadly as he signalled old Tom to pour his regular pint. He knew Tom would start a tab for him; Zach and the old barman had a fairly amiable arrangement, since Zach often used the pub as hunting grounds. Susan, of course, was not prey like Zach’s usual dates, but Tom had no way of knowing that.

The barman slid the cold ale across the bar into Zach’s hand; Zach caught it, neither looking away from Susan nor spilling any of the froth that topped the perfectly poured pint. Chaser’s reflexes, that.

“I’m fine,” Susan replied, sipping at her firewhiskey and cola. Zach liked that about Susan; he didn’t think he’d ever seen her order any sort of frou frou cocktail. Straightforward and simple, that was Susan Bones to a tee. “Only I need to ask you a favour. Drink your pint first, though; I don’t want to bombard you the moment you’ve sat down.”

Zach arched an eyebrow while he quaffed a good bit of his pint. He’d assumed that Susan had wanted to do a bit of catching up, but this sounded more purposeful. He didn’t mind, though he did chide himself for the assumption; Zach wasn’t a popular social companion with most people he’d gone to school with, and though the Hufflepuffs were more likely than most, he didn’t often get casual invitations from his former classmates. Something about the stigma of being a noted coward would never outweigh any fame he earned at Quidditch. The Hufflepuffs knew better, however, but Zach supposed it still wasn’t any fun to hang about with a bloke sure to be whispered about and pointed at. Usually, he was alright with the status quo, socialising with girls he’d met after matches and fellows from the team. Susan’s owl had gotten his hopes up in way he hadn’t realised, that was all.

“Go on,” he said, good natured enough. He never let anyone see him sweat. “What sort of favour is it? Fancy a meeting with one of the lads on the team?”

Susan spluttered a little on the sip she was taking of her drink, shaking her head emphatically. “Oh, no, nothing like that. I need your expertise, actually.”

“I’m intrigued,” he said. And he was. Most girls didn’t come after him for his brains, but for something far more base, usually. Despite the sting of this meet-up being more business than pleasure, he was interested. “The only thing I’m an expert on is Quidditch.”

“Well, that’s it exactly,” Susan explained. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the recent controversy surrounding the Tornadoes.”

“Of course I have.” It was the talk of the league, though Zach still was uncertain what Susan had to do with it.

He signalled for another round, and they drank while Susan laid out the situation with Cyril Plumpton and the accusations laid against him. Since Susan was Plumpton’s defender, Zach found himself suddenly privy to far more details than he’d gotten via hearsay and league gossip. It was vastly interesting; Plumpton had apparently managed a maneuver so spectacular that the Catapults were declaring it impossible. Indeed from what Susan described, reading from a document she’d brought with her, the sort of spiralling dive Plumpton had performed was not likely to be managed without either an unheard of amount of talent, or some sort of illegal enhancement to his broom. What she wanted from him seemed to boil down to this: was the tampering likely, and how would he have managed it, and if he hadn’t done it, how could Susan prove otherwise?

“It would depend on the type of broom he uses and when it was manufactured,” Zach said thoughtfully, running his thumb over the rim of his stein. “I wouldn’t know off the top of my head- I’m not my dad- but I’m happy to look into it for you, if you’ve got the information.”

Susan nodded, apparently satisfied his answer, and shuffled through her file again. Zach watched her face, a slight smile playing over his when he recognised the expression of study on Susan’s: furrowed brow, her slightly scrunched nose calling attention to the light spray of freckles that covered it. Susan had always been more studious than the average Hufflepuff, buckling down with the likes of Hermione Granger when it came time to revise for exams, but in true ‘puff fashion, she’d always helped her housemates out when they’d needed it, and Zach had needed her assistance pretty often. He didn’t think he was thick, or overly so, anyway, but he’d always been more sports-minded, and Susan explained boring things like History of Magic or Ancient Runes in a way that had made sense to Zach. He reckoned she was likely responsible for him obtaining any OWLs at all, although his marks had been nothing to Susan’s.

“Ahah, I’ve got it here,” she declared now, tapping a spot on the parchment with a purposeful finger. “Plumpton uses a Comet 300. Relatively new on the market, isn’t it?”

Zach whistled softly, still grinning. “Impressive, for the girl who only knew that Falcons uniforms were sharper than Ballycastle’s,” he said, teasing. “Which they are, of course. Black and red is overly dramatic, I think. Probably done to counteract the fruit bat mascot, but still.”

Susan rolled her eyes and gave Zach a playful shove on the shoulder. “Go on with you. I did do some research before pinning all my hopes on you. In any case, the broom?”

“Yeah, it’s a newer one. The 290 came out in ‘95; Comet spent a lot of time tweaking and developing before releasing the 300. It’s only been available for a year or so, less for the general public. It’s not as simple to suss out as it would be if he rode a Nimbus, but I’ll dig into it. I’ve got a bye week coming up, anyhow.”

The smile Susan gave him made Zach really, really glad he could be of help. It wasn’t often that he was able to make himself useful anywhere outside of a Quidditch pitch, and it wasn’t often that he put a smile on someone’s face like the one Susan was wearing. His face went a little warm, and to counteract it, he chugged the rest of his pint, sliding the empty glass across the bar and calling for another round.

“Alright, now that’s out of the way- we’ve got loads of catching up to do, yeah?” he asked, nudging a fresh drink in Susan’s direction.

Susan seemed hesitant, but then she picked up the drink, taking a sip. “Yeah, sure. Of course, I can read about your career, but junior members of the Wizengamot don’t really make the papers, do they?”

“Not unless they’re hanging about with famous Quidditch players,” Zach said archly, and he moved a little closer to Susan.

 _Blind Item: Our favourite falcon is known for being a bird of prey- we’ve quite the record of his kills. So why all the effort spent wooing a bird with far less colourful plumage than we’re used to? Has he already visited all the available nests? Tut tut, lad- though we do enjoy watching the show... especially when he’s putting a week’s paycheque in the Leaky’s coffers._

A voice inside Susan told her to put a stop to this. But the voice was too easily silenced by the hot mouth on the flesh of her throat, the large hands roaming restlessly over her body.

She knew this was stupid. She knew he did this with just about every woman in his orbit. She simply couldn’t help herself, and the firewhiskey racing through her veins made everything a haze of wonderful sensation- it was all lips and teeth and tongue and hands calloused by years on a broomstick.

It all felt so _good_.

She’d let him Apparate her to his flat- and doing that despite her lingering fears of Apparating attested to how effective the combination of firewhiskey, cola, and Zach’s mouth really were. She wouldn’t lose a leg again. She might lose something else. In fact, she was pretty sure she was about to, especially when her bum hit the edge of his bed and she did nothing more than tug him on top of her, allowing his roving hands to unbutton her blouse, wanting to feel those rough fingertips against the delicate skin of her breasts.

It was better than she’d ever imagined.

Frantically, she helped him out of his clothes- shirt, trousers... pants. She touched him and it set her blood more afire than any whiskey ever could. He was touching her, too, and his mouth was everywhere, and she could barely think beyond wanting him, barely think through the gasping breaths and burning skin and the indescribable tightness in her belly.

Somewhere, though the haze of drink and desire, there was pain- but then he was moving, oh god, he was moving, and it faded from importance. Her fingernails dug into his back, her head fell back in a series of breathy moans, and he was whispering her name and she was floating, no, she was falling, no, she was soaring, no, she was coming apart and it was the best and most terrifying feeling she’d ever felt.

Susan fell asleep with her head pillowed against Zach’s shoulder, adrift on waves of bliss, increasingly soft kisses leading her into dreams. She wasn’t sure where the kissing stopped and the dreaming began, but it was all Zach, and that was all that seemed to matter.

She awoke to harsh sunlight streaming through Zach’s window; in typical male fashion, he had no curtains, just a thin sheet tacked up over the glass. He lay beside her on his belly, oblivious and disheveled, blond curls in disarray. She sat up, wondering how many women before her had seen him like this.

She felt very, very stupid.

She moved from the bed carefully, so as not to wake him, disentangling herself from the knot of sheets. As she stood, she spied a spot of blood on the sheets, and a deep shamed rolled through her. Stupid, she was a stupid girl. It had likely meant less than nothing to him. They’d both been drunk, and Zach was a known cad, and they’d probably thrown out years of good friendship for this momentary... whatever it was. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as she gathered her clothing from around the messy room, pulling on items as she found them. Her wand was still in her pocket, and she aimed it at the bed, whispering, “ _Scourgify_.”

At least now he wouldn’t know how impossibly foolish she’d been. He’d think it had been the same bit of meaningless silliness to both of them. That was fine with her.

She slipped from his flat, too scared to try Apparating in her current state of confusion.

Once she was home, properly showered and dressed in clean clothes and feeling a bit more herself, she tried to look at the situation logically. They’d had a rather lot to drink. She’d always had a bit of a crush on Zach, one she’d never acted on because of his reputation with girls and his general attitude when faced with anyone outside of his immediate circle of friends. And Zach would apparently shag anything that moved. On that level, what had happened between them made sense. If she’d had to pick someone for her first time, she’d have preferred someone who loved her, and that was what she was having trouble with. A wee crush was one thing. A one night stand was another, and something she hadn’t wanted to share with one of her oldest friends. Zach had done well by her, physically speaking, even though he hadn’t known that what she’d been doing was anything out of the ordinary. It was only her heart that felt a little bruised and battered.

And she still needed him for her case. Well, bloody hell.

 _Wizarding World Prepares For Fifth Annual Day of Memory_

 _As spring has sprung, so have preparations for the fifth celebration of what has become known as the Day of Memory, the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. The Ministry has confirmed plans for a parade honouring all of those who fought bravely at the battle, as well as a memorial service for those who fell defending the school from the Dark Wizard’s attack..._

April was winding down, a fact which made Zach grouchy all on its own; May second typically meant a week of him avoiding all contact with the outside world. Added to the irritatingly blooming buds of spring, however, was the pile of books in front of him. Books! Even that fact that they were broom specs, which was normally a fairly engaging subject for him, didn’t improve his mood. Books meant reading which meant his spectacles, which he hated to wear. They also meant being indoors, and since he’d spend the better part of a week indoors soon enough, he’d like to be enjoying his bye week basking in the mild English spring weather. Instead, he was at his mother’s house, digging through his dad’s old trade journals.

The things he’d do for Susan. Who hadn’t even bothered to owl him after sneaking out of his flat a week ago. His irritation surged, and he pushed the book away with a grumpy sort of noise, lifting his spectacles to the top of his head so he could rub at the spot where they pinched his nose.

“Zacharias, whatever is all this?”

The airy voice accompanied a willowy blonde, who floated more than walked into the room, peering around at the cluttered environs.

“Luna,” Zach said, surprised. “I didn’t know you’d be visiting.”

“Oh, yes,” she said, in a way that really explained nothing, moving closer to pick up one of the old manuals and leaf through it. “Why are you reading about Comets? I thought you flew a Nimbus?”

It wasn’t unusual for Luna to be at his mother’s house; his surprise only stemmed from the fact that his mum hadn’t mentioned expecting her. Luna had been one of the few attendees, and the only one from Hogwarts, at his father’s funeral, and while Zach had considered her a tolerable nuisance up until that point, the fact that she’d taken time away from all the post-victory celebrations to do so for someone she only knew from Quidditch announcing and Dumbledore’s Army had cemented their friendship. It was helped along by the fact that she knew why he’d left the battle, and thus had never questioned him about it or demanded explanations. She never looked at him like he was a coward or a traitor, and she never pressed him to make any explanation to Harry Potter and his cohorts- who Zach felt had no right to demand one, since the obituary had been there in the Prophet, if a bit buried behind the names of all the war casualties. She was simply there, someone to talk to without all the usual defence mechanisms. Luna had also struck up a friendship with Zach’s mother somewhere along the way, and now that Zach was often so busy with his Quidditch schedule, Mrs Smith saw more of Luna than she did of her own son.

“I do fly a Nimbus. I’m doing some research for a friend that involves reading up on Comets. Luckily Dad was a bit obsessive when it came to brooms.”

“Mmmm, you do take after him, then,” Luna replied, turning the book sideways and squinting at a note Mr Smith had made in the margin. “Fancy a break? Come for a walk with me, and you can tell me about this research, yes? I do so love hearing about matters of deep study.”

Zach agreed, grateful for a chance to stretch his legs. He’d been at this all day. He supposed Susan really only needed information on the current Comet model, but he also reckoned he’d understand the specs on the 300 better if he understood the broom’s history. Perhaps he was a bit like his father, after all.

Outside, Luna turned into the gardens, Zach keeping step with her as he found himself explaining the task Susan had set for him. Somehow that led to him telling Luna everything about that night, though he did peek over the hedges to be certain his mum wasn’t puttering about in her flower beds before divulging certain details. A frown marred his face as he got to the part where he’d woken up alone without a trace of Susan ever having been there, other than a love bite on his shoulder, which he’d poked for the several days until it healed to remind himself that the encounter had really happened.

“I don’t understand why she’d be cross with me,” he said, his lips twisting in a scowl. “But I guess she must be, since she hasn’t even owled to see if I’ve discovered anything.”

Luna appeared thoughtful. “Have you owled her?”

“No,” Zach said, feeling a bit squidgy. And maybe a little defensive. “She snuck out. And I didn’t have any news on the investigation yet.”

Luna studied Zach in a way that made him shift from one foot to the other until he finally gave her a very pointed look.

“Sorry,” she said. “But I’m surprised that you’re so affected by this. Usually, you seem to move on rather quickly once you’ve indulged yourself with a girl.”

Zach’s scowl deepened. For one thing, he hadn’t thought Luna had ever paid any attention to that aspect of his life. For another, she was right, and it bothered him that he hadn’t realised he was acting out of the ordinary.

“Susan’s my friend. It’s different.”

He spied a gnome under a rose bush, and without much thought he stuck his hand under the thorny branches, pulling the wriggling pest out into the open. The gnome made sounds of protest as Zach raised his arm overheard, circling it to gain momentum before giving the gnome a good hard toss. Luna waited patiently through these proceedings, by now well used to Zach’s tactics for avoiding serious conversation. She murmured a quick healing charm over the scratches on his hand before she said anything at all.

“I’m your friend as well, Zacharias. So is Hannah Abbott, so is Megan Jones, and so is Eloise Midgen. You’ve never indulged yourself with any of us, and I don’t suspect you want to. So perhaps Susan is more than a friend, even if you’ve never thought of it that way before.”

She said this in a perfectly logical voice, but Zach shook his head emphatically no. Friends were kept firmly in one box in his head, girls he shagged in another. Susan had blurred the lines a bit, but he wasn’t ready to combine boxes. He’d never seen himself as the relationship type, anyway, and Susan wasn’t the casual sort, despite what had happened last week. He’d never had a serious girlfriend; he was too busy and too intensely private when he wasn’t busy. Sure, his social life, such as it was, made the papers. But it was never anything that actually mattered to him, just Quidditch groupies and victory pub crawls. Susan did matter, and he didn’t want to ruin that by moving her from one box to the other. It had been a drunken, well, not a mistake, but an unplanned-for event. He didn’t see why it had to go changing everything.

Luna sighed as though he were a lost cause, and patted his hand. “Come, Zacharias, let’s go get some tea. I’ll try to explain these things called feelings to you. I do hope you don’t require a flow chart.”

 _From the pages of Witch Weekly:  
Ladies, have we lost one more eligible bachelor? It looks as though Falcons Chaser Zacharias Smith might be off the market. He was spotted out at Madame Puddifoot’s with an unidentified blond, and as our photograph shows, the two look quite cosy. Smith’s not the most charming of fellows, but he’s fit enough to look at, and I’m sure Quidditch fans everywhere will be mourning the loss of the young and handsome player from the singles scene..._

Stupid rag. Susan wasn’t sure why she read it. She supposed it was normally a welcome relief from the tedium of legal briefs, filled with juicy gossip and pictorials about fashionable summer shoes. It was still the sort of thing she kept buried deep in her handbag, since it was so at odds with her serious image, only to come out when she was lunching alone at her desk. Today, however, it was no relief at all, since it confirmed her worst fears about her night with Zach, and what it might have meant to him.

The picture showed him embracing a tall and slender girl with long waves of flaxen hair. The girl kissed Zach’s cheek before walking away, her back to the photographer. Susan had no idea who she was. Whoever she was, she was pretty much the opposite of Susan in every way, and Susan felt any vestiges of hope that might have remained inside her die away.

He hadn’t even owled, anyway.

Unfortunately, Susan still needed the information Zach had promised for the Plumpton case. Also unfortunately, she had no idea if he was even planning to fulfill his promise or if he was too busy squiring mysterious blondes around town. Which meant she would have to break down and owl him first. She’d just have to keep it strictly business, so Zach wouldn’t get any funny ideas about what she really wanted.

And she’d stay away from the Leaky Cauldron this time. She paused thoughtfully before putting quill to parchment, tapping the long feather against her chin. She’d invite him to her office. That was sufficiently business-like. No chance for misunderstandings, no room for temptation.

While she waited for a response, she turned to the other, more complete parts of her research on the Plumpton case. Part of the reason so many of her hopes for an acquittal rested on Zach’s broad shoulders was that it was otherwise difficult to believe Plumpton hadn’t cheated. The maneuver, having been reviewed dozens of times, was incredibly difficult- spectacular and breathtaking to watch- but very, very difficult. No one in the history of the league had ever done it before. Then again, Plumpton’s grandfather Roderick had invented the famous Plumpton Pass, so that did plant a seed of hope. In Susan’s case, that seed had been largely eradicated after meeting the man, who was thoroughly unlikeable, arrogant, and entitled. He insisted the Catapults had launched the accusation out of jealousy and fear of his superior skills, which might be true but was not provable, and in any case had left Susan with great distaste for the man. He’d never win over or convince a jury in a his word against theirs sort of situation. His innocence, if it existed, would have be proven scientifically.

That meant she must rely on Zach, as little as she liked it. She just hoped that the Zach she’d known in school, who despite all his outward sullenness had always been a man of his word and a friend that could be relied upon, was still there under the bed-hopping player he’d become.

 _Plumpton’s Character Under Close Scrutiny_

 _With his hearing mere weeks away, Cyril Plumpton faces close watch from his fans, who are looking to the famous Seeker for some clue that will reveal whether or not their faith in him has been warranted. Unfortunately, Plumpton hasn’t given it to them, instead choosing to spend his time on suspension frolicking the night away, missing practices, and being belligerent with certain reporters..._

Zach had the direction of Susan’s office scrawled onto a scrap of parchment, but even so, once he’d found the proper floor of the Ministry and the correct department, he’d still needed someone to lead him through the maze of cubicles to her desk. Zach was left pretty sure that the Justice Department of Magical Law Enforcement was reinforced with bigger on the inside spells by the time he found himself standing awkwardly in the entrance of Susan’s cubicle, waiting for her to turn around and acknowledge him.

When she finally did, there was something odd about her demeanor that Zach couldn’t quite put his finger on. A stiffness, maybe. It put a small frown on his face, and he realised that this might not be the warm and friendly reunion he’d been hoping for.

“Hullo, Zach,” Susan said, and her sterile tone made Zach’s frown deepen even further. “Look, I won’t keep you long- I just wondered how you were progressing with the research on the Comet 300?”

She shuffled some papers on her desk, looking away as she added, “I hadn’t had an owl from you.”

Zach unconsciously mirrored Susan’s rigid demeanor and his voice took on an equally cool tone. “I’ve dug through everything I could find, and I’ve brought it to you. It was harder to find information on the 300, since it was released after my dad passed.” Zach leaned over, tossing the collected information on her desk. “It’s all in there.”

Susan swiveled in her chair, the oddest look on her face. It was as if she was gritting her teeth. “Oh? Was that what kept you until I finally owled? I had a rather different impression.”

Zach stared at her for a moment, utterly nonplussed. He had no idea what she was one about. “Yes. It was.”

“Hmm. _Witch Weekly_ seemed to think you’d found yourself some leisure time.” She turned and pulled something from her handbag, holding it out to him. “And someone to spend it with.”

Zach was still baffled, until he took the glossy pages she was handing him- a magazine. With a photo in it of him. He couldn’t help laughing, though he could tell by Susan’s face she didn’t much like that.

“That,” he said, pointing at the photograph that apparently had her so riled, “is Luna Lovegood. She insisted I go have tea with her because I was burying myself in old Comet specs.” He tossed the magazine back to Susan, so it landed atop the research he’d done.

“Oh,” Susan said, and it was her turn to look confused, much to Zach’s satisfaction. “I didn’t know you were friendly with Lovegood.”

Zach crossed his arms over his chest. “I am. She was the only one to come to my father’s funeral.” His voice was fairly dripping with haughtiness; he couldn’t help it when it came to this sensitive subject. “I’d say the friendship grew from there.”

Susan suck in a breath, and her eyes grew wide. “Zach, that’s not fair. You didn’t tell any of us. You didn’t even tell any of us why you’d left that night until well after the fact.”

“Luna found out,” he said, turning away before Susan could do it first.

Before he left, he said, over his shoulder, “Plumpton didn’t cheat, by the way. You’ll see why if you read my notes.”

“Zach... you should have owled,” Susan said, her voice low and strained.

Zach did turn then, but just to say, “I’m not the one who snuck out. I don’t think the burden of owling was on me.”

Then he did leave, praying he wouldn’t mar his righteous huff by getting lost again in the maze of cubicles.

 _The Daily Prophet, Letter to the Editor:_

 _I certainly hope Cyril Plumpton’s defender has his case well in hand! I saw Ms Bones out socialising just yesterday, and as proving our Cyril’s innocence rests on her shoulders, she ought to be giving his case every bit of her attention, not chumming about with her girlfriends. Bad enough the Tornadoes already have one forfeit and now a loss on the record books- if we lose Cyril we lose the season!_

It was a relief to know that with the trial only a handful of days away, Susan could leave off hacking away it. Zach really had provided the key piece of information she’d needed, though that thought didn’t come free of a bit of accompanying discomfort. He’d come through for her- he’d been true to his word. And she’d repaid him poorly, whatever their romantic status might be.

It turned out that the new Comets came equipped with anti-tampering charms; any charm applied to the broom had to be installed by a licensed broom-crafter, or the equipment would lock and cease working. This was a fact the company didn’t advertise loudly, however, as they likely enjoyed the servicing fees locked brooms generated. Furthermore, after the _subpoena duces tecum_ Susan had the Wizengamot issue the Comet Company for details on Plumpton’s specific broom, she’d discovered that Plumpton’s broom had not been altered in any way from the date of purchase. He’d had it customized to begin with, of course, and no additional charms had been added, official or otherwise. The broom had been declared never locked.

So that was that- Plumpton might be a bit of a tosser, but he was on the up-and-up as far as his flying went. It was likely that rather than being tossed from the British and Irish Quidditch League, the wanker would end up following in his grandfather’s footsteps, and have a maneuver named for him. It made Susan shake her head, but she was otherwise pleased with the inevitable outcome; it would be quite the feather in her legal cap.

All this considered, Susan supposed she could take the afternoon off, after making certain all of her evidentiary documents were properly filed. A little shopping for court robes seemed like just the thing to reward herself and take her mind off of the row with Zach. It was a lovely spring afternoon, after all, and Hogsmeade was bustling with sales in the shops and eateries in preparation for the Day of Memory. It was also quite likely that the Prophet would be covering the inquiry, given that Plumpton was such a big Quidditch star, and Susan’s vanity was making itself known to some degree.

At Gladrags, Susan happily plundered the racks of reduced robes, trying on set after set until she finally settled upon a nice, deep blue jersey that had enough little details to be pretty while still being cut and styled in a way that was utterly professionally. She stood in front of the three piece mirror that stood in the center of the shop turning this way and that to make sure they fit well from all angles, while the looking glass perkily complimented her. Susan smiled, pretty well pleased with herself.

“Oh, Susan! Those are lovely on you!”

The dreamy voice was not that of the mirror’s, and Susan turned, her cheeks reddening, to see the person to whom the voice belonged standing just outside of the reflected area. Tall, with long blonde hair and a disconcertingly focused gaze... Oh, dear. Susan’s face flamed even more hotly.

“Oh, I, er...” Susan swallowed, finding her tongue. “Thank you, Luna.”

She stepped from the elevated floor in front of the looking glass, feeling suddenly silly for admiring herself so, especially in front of the effortlessly lovely Luna Lovegood. Susan doubted Luna even owned a hairpin or used a cosmetic charm, a fact which made her terribly envious, even though she was certain Lovegood wasn’t even aware how irritating that was.

“They’re new robes for me to wear during an inquiry.” She felt the need to explain. In an effort to be polite and not to give into the irrational, seething jealousy Lovegood provoked in her, she asked brightly, “What are you shopping for today?”

“Socks,” Luna answered without missing a beat, wearing a seemingly genuine smile. “Gladrags has the most clever designs, you know, and they’re the only store which lets me just buy one of each sort. Madame Malkin gets very fussy about socks being bought in pairs. I suppose I can understand why, though I believe it’s terribly boring to match all the time. My feet do like to be as interesting as the rest of me.”

Susan looked down at what Lovegood held in her hands; sure enough, the other woman had two socks, completely unlike one another, though both brilliantly patterned in complementary colours. On anyone else the end result would’ve been mad, but on Lovegood it would be charming. The notion didn’t help Susan warm to her any further. Luna made Susan feel impossibly ordinary.

“Ah,” Susan managed. “I’ve never bought socks that weren’t in pairs.”

“Well it’s certainly not for everybody, I admit. But perhaps you could try it sometime, on a cosy night in with a book or something like that. You might find you enjoy it, even if it’s something you just do to make yourself smile.”

Susan tried to detect a note of mockery in Lovegood’s voice, but had to admit she couldn’t find one. The former Ravenclaw seemed genuine to the core, and Susan suddenly felt bad for her uncharitable thoughts only moments before.

“Perhaps I will,” she said, making herself smile.

“Wonderful.” If anything Luna’s voice was warm. Then she asked a question that had Susan tensing up all over again. “How is Zacharias, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Startled, Susan found herself blurting out, “But surely you’ve seen him more recently than I have?”

“Oh, no,” Luna said, her grey eyes large. “I haven’t seen him in quite some time- his schedule is so very busy, you know- and the last time I did see him all he could speak about was you. And he did say he was going to take my advice and speak to you about his feelings. Didn’t he?”

Susan’s stomach felt as though it were filled with concrete. Feelings? Zach had feelings? Regarding her? Had he been intending to talk to her about these feelings when she’d called him on the carpet for the tabloid photograph? Sweet Merlin, had she ruined everything? But there was Lovegood looking down at her with owlish eyes, and Susan had to pull her jumbled mind together and carry on the conversation.

“No,” she said slowly, trying to stop the erratic thundering of her heart. “We only discussed the case.”

Which wasn’t strictly true, but Susan would rather sink through the floor than tell Luna that she’d had a jealous snit-fit.

“Oh, that’s too bad. He seemed quite certain.” Luna tapped a long finger against her chin, as if trying to determine what had gone wrong.

“Luna,” Susan said, feeling rather breathless. “Zach spoke to you about... feelings? Involving me? But I thought you two were...”

Luna released a tinkling laugh, and Susan began to feel very foolish indeed. “Zacharias and I? No, I’d say we are great friends and I should like to consider him family. He’s very special to me, and I to him, I think, but we’ve never been anything other than that.” Luna paused, her smile widening and becoming somehow secretive at the same time. “In fact, I am seeing someone. A Gryffindor.”

“That must be exciting,” Susan replied absently, her mind racing ahead of her.

She wondered if she dared to hope Zach still felt the same way about her, despite their argument. Susan had never been the aggressive sort, but she considered that the ball was in her court, so to speak. She’d have to pluck up her courage, and... do what, exactly, she wasn’t certain, but she’d think of something.

Spontaneously, she threw her arms around Luna, nearly knocking the taller girl off-balance. “Thank you, Luna,” Susan said, her grin much more genuine this time. “You’ve no idea how glad I am to have run into you.”

“You’re very welcome, Susan.” If Luna was taken aback, it didn’t show. “I enjoy seeing you as well. Dare I hope this means you’ll be speaking with Zach?”

Susan nodded, and gave Luna another squeeze before dashing back into the fitting rooms to put her own clothing back on. She missed the knowing quirk of Luna’s lips in her hurry to make her purchase and go home to think.

 _Plumpton Acquitted!_

 _In news that will cause a cacophony of chatter in the Quidditch world, Tornadoes Seeker Cyril Plumpton has been found innocent of all charges of broom-tampering. It will surprise none of his fans to know that he executed the maneuver, already being called the Plumpton Spiral, as a result of his own prowess and not of illegal charms applied to his broom. His defender, Ms Susan Bones, proved beyond a reasonable doubt that no such charm could possibly have been applied, much to the relief of his fellow Tornadoes and their management..._

Zach listened to the breaking news on the wizarding wireless, happy for Susan, although he had mixed feelings about Plumpton’s return to Tutshill’s active roster on a professional level. Just before the Falcons squared off against the Tornadoes, too. Damn it all. But yes, happy for Susan, and proud as well. He’d debated sending her a good luck owl, but decided it would be unwelcome given the frosty way they’d left things. In any case, she hadn’t needed it, as she was likely out celebrating her victory.

As for himself, Zach was having a quiet night in studying his playbook and listening to the new Weird Sisters album. Well, as quiet as the Weird Sisters could be considered. He was just getting up to get a glass of water when a knock sounded at his door. He scowled, not welcoming the interruption, especially since the last unexpected visitor had been a reporter looking to write an article about celebrities and their involvement in the Battle of Hogwarts. That particular unwanted guest had gotten a door slammed in their face, and if the current one was more of the same, they’d get an identical treatment.

He had a good self-righteous lather worked up, one that was promptly deflated when he opened the door to reveal Susan standing in the hallway.

Zach stared at her for long while before finally stepping aside with a ‘come in’ gesture, too surprised to articulate himself. He wasn’t able to speak until he got the door closed behind her, and he stumbled over his words at first.

“Susan,” he said, his eyebrows lifting. “I reckoned you’d be over at the Leaky. Wireless said that’s where everyone would be.”

She took a moment to answer, and when she did, Zach could finally see that she was feeling a bit nervous as well. “I wanted to celebrate with you.”

“I... you did? But...” Zach fumbled, perplexed at her seemingly sudden change in attitude.

The whole thing was awkward, the two of them standing there in his entry, not quite meeting each other’s eyes. But Susan appeared determined to say her piece, the words falling out of her mouth in a rush as if she was afraid that if she didn’t say them all at once, they wouldn’t get said.

“I wanted to thank you, too, of course. If you hadn’t helped I’d never have won the case. And I wanted to apologize, as well, because I think I leapt to some conclusions before. And I wanted to say that I like you, very much, and I think I always have, only I never realised it until I spent the night with you, and I’m only sorry it made me act like a barmy person instead of simply talking to you.”

It was a bit of a sucker punch, but it was a good one, and so even though his body felt all wobbly as a result, Zach didn’t mind it too much. He struggled to keep his cool, however, and that was a novelty as much as the quiver in his belly was.

“How’d you know I’d be home so you could say all that?” he asked, hoping to distract her long enough for him to get his act together.

“It’s the beginning of May,” she answered. “Which is silly, by the way, because you did nothing wrong at that battle. And everyone who matters knows that, and anyone who stupidly assumes otherwise doesn’t matter.”

“Oh,” Zach said, and then he finally met her eyes, unable to pretend he hadn’t heard what she said or that he didn’t care.

Susan paused then, but forged ahead before Zach could say anything else. “But anyhow, I’m glad you’re home- not glad you’re hiding, but glad I knew where to find you. Because I want to be with you. And not just tonight.”

Finally Zach laid his palm over her mouth, afraid he’d never get a chance to say anything and suspecting she’d just keep rambling on and on if he didn’t put a stop to it. There was a rather lot he wanted to say.

“Susan. Stop.” He slid his hand over so it was cupping her cheek instead of covering her lips. “I like you too. More than like you. Obviously, because I don’t think I would’ve buried myself in Comet manuals for just anyone. I didn’t mean for what happened that night to happen the way it did, and I should’ve tried harder to make it right with you after. I know what my reputation is. I do. But you were my friend first, and you mean so much more to me now. And I’d like a chance to make it right, if you’ll let me.”

Susan looked up at him for a long time, and Zach nearly felt as though he were drowning in her brown eyes. She seemed startled, even though this had to have been a possibility that had crossed her mind when she’d decided to come by. Zach hoped, fervently, that he hadn’t mucked it up somehow. He was very new at this, and all the clever things Luna had told him had flown straight out the window when Susan had made her confession.

“I guess we both handled it poorly,” Susan said, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Bit of a shock for both of us, wasn’t it?”

“To say the least,” Zach admitted, smiling self-deprecatingly. “But we’re going to figure it out, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Zach didn’t give Susan a chance to say anything else; he kissed her, softly, full of feelings he couldn’t quite describe and unsure how else to express them.

“Zach,” she breathed, when she finally lifted her head. “There’s something else you should know.”

“What’s that?” he said, a frisson of fear making itself known in his belly.

“That night, with you... it was the first time I’d done something like that.”

“Oh, well, yeah,” Zach said, chuckling in relief. “I didn’t really figure you for the one night stand sort.”

“No,” she said, and now it was her hand gently cupping his cheek, and his turn to wet his lips nervously. “I meant, at all.”

“Oh.” He paused, nonplussed but knowing that was not the appropriate reaction. And then he met her gaze and it didn’t matter, because he was pretty sure he was falling for her in a big way, and mattering to her on that level wasn’t the terrifying thing it might normally be. “Then I need to make that right with you, too.”

And he kissed her again, his mouth meeting hers with sureness and desire like he’d never felt before. She responded to him like they’d been kissing their whole lives, her lips parting beneath his, her tongue dancing against his as her fingers slid into his hair, tightening around his curls. Her body molded against his; he could feel her full breasts pressed against his chest, and his hands slid down her back, cupping her bum to pull her even more tightly to him.

He picked her up easily, carrying her to his bed.

This time, everything was crystal clear, emblazoned on both their memories. Every kiss, every touch, every breath, every sigh- he knew he’d recall it all with startling clarity, because it was Susan and because it was special and because it was the beginning of them. His hands were only beginning to learn her secret places; his mouth was just discovering what it could do to make her cry out. He was only finding out, too, exactly how incredible Susan could make him feel. How different it could be with someone he felt deeply for.

When he moved inside her, it felt like the earth shattered and came back together in a more perfect way.

Afterward, they lay tangled together, the sheets twisted about them. Zach was tired and sweaty and utterly, completely happy. Susan’s head was tucked against his shoulder, and Zach’s fingers combed through her thoroughly mussed hair, her braid long gone in the heat of passion. He gazed at her, still marvelling that Susan, who he’d known since he was eleven, was naked beside him and he wouldn’t change it for the world. He kissed her temple, eliciting a knowing smile from her.

“You know, I really ought to take you out for dinner or something,” he said, though he was already drinking in her small and curvy form again, his fingers lightly tracing the dip from her waist to her him. “Proper date and all. Show you I respect you.”

Susan laughed. “Take me out for breakfast.”

Then she pulled his head down to hers.

 _Blind Item: What’s all this then? A certain bird of prey was sighted with a hotshot legal eagle- sharing an intimate breakfast? I think we all know what that means... how deliciously naughty. And knowing the birds in question, it must be love! We never thought we’d see the day, but let’s wish them the best of luck, shall we?_

The End


End file.
